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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829070">The Antique Bed Frame</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/pseuds/Fae_vorite'>Fae_vorite</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazywonderland/pseuds/lazywonderland'>lazywonderland</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Himbo Harry Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Draco Malfoy POV, Himbo Harry, Hung Harry Potter, M/M, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Thirsty Draco, draco's an accountant yuegruhawjkw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:20:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/pseuds/Fae_vorite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazywonderland/pseuds/lazywonderland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco “needs his bed fixed.” Harry offers to help.</p><p>Illustrated by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/pseuds/Fae_vorite">Fae_vorite</a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Himbo Harry Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1005</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Antique Bed Frame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Y'all asked for it and here it is. This will be a whole ass series updated semi-regularly (every two weeks or so, tentatively) and will include illustrations by the lovely and talented <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_vorite/pseuds/Fae_vorite">Fae_vorite</a>. ♡</p><p>Please be warned this is PURELY for laughs and Harry is more than a little out of character even though I've tried to retain his essence.....to the best of my ability.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>i.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The pub was called the Red Lion, which was obviously irksome. Probably the owner had been a Gryffindor. Probably that was why Potter liked it, too. Draco wouldn’t know — he spent his time ogling the great oaf, not speaking to him. He often came after evening Quidditch practises, something Draco inferred based on the fact that he could frequently be seen in tight-fitting T-shirts with the legend <b>PUDDLEMERE UNITED </b> on the front and <b>POTTER </b>on the back, sweat stains just beginning to dry, the veins in his arms and his hands still standing out sharply from exertion. Indecent, really.</p><p>Tonight was different only in that it was a match rather than practise Potter had come from. Not a big game, but a win was a win and there were more people in the pub than usual to celebrate. Potter was wearing a permanent boyish grin of triumph that was giving Draco heartburn and trying to refuse the free shots being forced upon him from all sides.</p><p>“Let’s just go somewhere <em> else</em>,” Pansy complained, wearing a look of distaste as she watched Potter, his teammates, his admirers, and, of course, Weasel and Granger. “Can’t you stalk him another night?”</p><p> </p><p>                                           </p><p> </p><p>Instead of rising to the bait, Draco rolled his eyes. “There are two wizarding pubs in London,” he said, tearing his eyes from Potter to look at her. “And seeing as neither of us is yet old enough to be having a midlife crisis, we’re obviously not going to be patronising the Leaky. Anyway, if I feel like indulging myself I don’t see why it’s such a crime.”</p><p>When he glanced over at Potter again, he caught Potter already looking. This wasn’t a terribly rare occurrence; in fact, it happened so often lately that it had become part of the fun. He looked forward to that moment each time when their eyes would meet and he could (quite easily) convince himself he saw something dark and hungry there. And then Draco, cheeks warm, would look deliberately away and pretend like he could feel Potter still watching him. Sometimes the pretending was so easy he could have sworn it must really be happening.</p><p>For no reason in particular other than Potter looking especially good, Draco didn’t immediately break eye contact tonight. They stared at one another from across the pub, Potter surrounded by people, Draco in a corner with Pansy, steadily turning red, letting heat pool in his belly in spite of his very public location. </p><p>Potter looked away first this time.</p><p>                                         </p><p>“I don’t understand why he won’t just come talk to you,” said Pansy. There was a note of real curiosity underscoring her bored tone. “Always eye-fucking you, isn’t he? I’ve always said he was as vacant as a troll, probably doesn’t realise you fancy him.”</p><p>“He’s not <em> vacant</em>,” Draco said, tilting his head as he continued to stare unabashedly. Potter was busy talking to some girl now who kept touching his arm. “He’s just … a bit thick, that’s all. Probably in more ways than one.”</p><p>It took Pansy a second, and when it finally clicked she scoffed loudly.</p><p>“I wish <em> you </em> would go talk to him then,” she said, standing up now from their booth, clearly meaning to leave. “That way you two could finally fuck and you could get it out of your system. I can’t watch you salivate over a halfwit any longer, Draco, it’s painful. For <em> me</em>.” She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to emphasise where she was feeling the pain.</p><p>“He’s such a <em> gorgeous </em>halfwit, though,” Draco sighed. Pansy, scowling, snatched up her purse. Draco quickly finished off his drink before following after her — as much as he enjoyed ogling Potter, he didn’t fancy sitting there and doing it alone.</p><p>Pansy did have a point, though, he thought with a little spark of anticipation. It couldn’t hurt, at least, to make a grab for his attention and see what happened, could it?</p><p>As he passed close to Potter’s table on the way towards the exit, Draco deliberately let his wallet drop and held his breath.</p><p>It took four seconds for him to call out, “Malfoy!”</p><p>Suppressing his triumph, Draco turned to face him with politely raised eyebrows, as if he couldn’t imagine who might be calling his name, or why. Peripherally he saw Pansy turn to see what had happened and then pinch her nose. Potter was hurrying over and picking the wallet up from the floor, wearing a big dumb grin as he handed it over.</p><p>“You dropped this,” he said unnecessarily. </p><p>“So I did,” said Draco, slipping it back into his robes. He hadn’t been this close to Potter in years — not since their make-up year at Hogwarts — and he felt simultaneously aggravated and extremely aroused by the reminder of the several inches of height Boy Wonder had on him these days. Not to mention the muscle, which had <em> not </em>been there before. “Thank you, Potter, that was very chivalrous of you.”</p><p>Potter frowned. “No, I — very what? I was just helping out.”</p><p>Behind him, Draco heard Pansy mutter, “Oh my god.”</p><p>“I know you were,” Draco assured him, ignoring her and fixing Potter with a genuine smile, which made his face light up. The poor, blundering moron went from one emotion to the next the way a child would, as if the last one had never existed. “That’s what chivalrous means, isn't that supposed to be a Gryffindor quality? Anyway — thanks again, Pot —”</p><p>“Are you wearing something on your lips?” Potter interrupted. Draco blinked at him, taken off guard.</p><p>“Am I — what?”</p><p><br/>“Your lips,” Potter said again, squinting at them shamelessly. Draco felt himself flushing. “They look shiny.”</p><p>“It’s lip balm, Potter,” he said. The poor sap was even denser than he remembered, and damn his whole family if it wasn’t the hottest thing Draco had ever witnessed. He tried not to think about how big Potter’s cock had to be to make up for the devastating lack of mental power and was only marginally successful.</p><p>“Oh,” Potter said, still looking a bit confused. Or maybe it was just fascination.</p><p>“Right,” said Draco after a moment. Near the bar, over Potter’s shoulder, he could see Granger watching them suspiciously and decided now was not the time to try and goad Potter into making a move. “Erm — thanks for getting my wallet. See you round, Potter.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Potter. “Good talking to you, Malfoy.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>ii.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>Two days later, at the very same pub and while Pansy was in the loo, Potter came over to him where he was sat at the bar. It took Draco so by surprise he could only blink at first, helpless not to glance down at the usual tight T-shirt snug around his arms and torso, and then at his mouth, curled up into a grin. </p><p>“Hey, Malfoy,” he said buoyantly, sliding into Pansy’s seat.</p><p>“Have I dropped my wallet again or something?”</p><p>Potter cocked his head, not unlike a dog. Draco fought a smile.</p><p>“No, why?” said Potter. “Did you lose it?”</p><p>“No, Potter,” he said gently, laughing, “it was a joke. Did you need something?”</p><p>“Just wanted to say hi,” said Potter. “We haven’t really talked much since school.”</p><p>“Were we supposed to have done?”</p><p>Potter shrugged. “No,” he said, “but we’re both always in here, aren’t we? Maybe we should.”</p><p>Draco’s eyebrows lifted. He didn’t think Potter had meant for it to sound so quietly philosophical; if he had, it would have been something of a profound statement in all its naked honesty. Instead it managed only to be endearing, because he knew perfectly well it was just Potter’s lack of brain power making him blunt.</p><p>Deciding to take a risk, he said, “You’re right. I s’pose I can let you buy me a drink, Potter.”</p><p>Potter brightened, but — as Draco had expected — he seemed to take the sentiment at face value, gleaning no other intentions than the ones explicitly expressed. He waved down the barkeep and ordered a firewhisky for himself as well as another cosmo for Draco. He was, Draco noted, very confident in his movements, sure of himself in a way that seemed to come not only from being dumber than a bag of bezoars, but an innate aplomb that suited him extremely well. </p><p>“So what have you been up to, Malfoy?” he asked when they had their drinks, Draco transferring the straw from his old one to the new one. Next to Potter, he felt both very small and very overdressed in his proper wizarding robes. He estimated that Potter’s forearm was roughly the same size as his own bicep, which he quickly tried to stop noticing when it made his cheeks burn.</p><p>“This and that,” Draco said with a brave attempt at nonchalance. “I do accounting at the ministry right now. Easy enough and it makes for good financial security.”</p><p>“That’s really great,” Potter said earnestly. His vividly green eyes shined with sincerity. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been playing Quidditch,” he said and pointed redundantly at his shirt, this one sporting <b>PUDDLEMERE UNITED </b>as well.</p><p>“Yes, I know that,” said Draco. He smiled, helplessly charmed by the modesty that came with Potter’s airheadedness. “You’re very famous,” he pointed out. Potter rolled his eyes — shedding for just a second that air of vacantness — and shrugged a broad shoulder.</p><p>“I just like playing, that’s all,” he said, a little defensively. His jaw clenched, which made Draco’s belly throb with an unexpected pulse of arousal. “I didn’t do it to be famous or whatever.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Draco assured him. And, changing the subject, “Where are your friends tonight?”</p><p>Potter looked thrown for a moment, then looked over his shoulder back towards the other end of the bar, where a few of his teammates were drinking.</p><p>“What do you mean?” he said when he turned back.</p><p>“Granger and Weasley.”</p><p>“Oh!” Potter exclaimed. “Right, yeah, no, they’re not here. It’s date night,” he said, rolling his eyes again but this time with a definite fondness about it. “They like doing that every other week or so.”</p><p>“That’s very domestic of them,” said Draco, wrinkling his nose a bit. Potter gave him an odd, searching look.</p><p>“You don’t like that sort of thing?”</p><p>Draco shrugged, trying hard not to blush with little success. His only consolation was that Potter was probably too thick to realise what had caused it.</p><p>“Depends,” he said vaguely. He was thinking not of going on dates with the gorgeous idiot before him but rather being trapped beneath him on his bed, or perhaps bent over the arm of the sofa if they couldn’t make it that far. It was, he reflected, a good thing Granger and Weasley weren’t here right now — it would be much easier to try and make this happen.</p><p>“On what?” Potter asked.</p><p>Draco met his eyes and saw only curiosity there without even a hint of understanding. It shouldn’t have turned him on so much, but Merlin did it ever. He felt he would simply shrivel up and die of disappointment if he didn’t get his hands under that stupid Puddlemere T-shirt soon.</p><p>“On my mood,” Draco said. He took the plastic pick out of his drink and stuck the olive between his teeth, sliding it off slowly and watching where Potter’s eyes went: directly to his mouth, as he’d hoped. Interestingly, he didn’t think Potter was aware of doing it, nor the way his pupils dilated. “For instance,” he added, “it <em> would </em>be very nice to have someone around to help me fix my bed right now.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with your bed?”</p><p>“It’s very old wood,” Draco explained, inventing something haphazardly, “so I can’t use magic on it; too fragile, you know? But the frame’s falling apart. I’d get a new one but it’s been in the family for centuries.”</p><p>“So, what, you need, like, someone to do it the Muggle way?”</p><p>“Exactly,” said Draco, affecting a frown. “And of course I’m useless at that stuff. So again, <em> that </em>would be nice to have someone around for —”</p><p>“I can do that!” said Potter, looking again like an excited dog. His eyes were so bright as to be almost unnatural. “I’m really good with Muggle tools and stuff, I had to use them all the time at the Dursleys’.”</p><p>It was almost too easy, and Draco tried not to let too much of his triumph show on his face. Instead, he frowned a little.</p><p>“Really?” he said. “Are you … are you sure, Potter? I wouldn’t dream of imposing.”</p><p>“No, not at all,” Potter assured him, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “I love that kinda thing, I’m pretty good with my hands. I even have a tool kit, I could run home and grab it!”</p><p>Draco swallowed and fought back what would surely have been a shaky laugh.</p><p>“Well if you’re sure,” he said. “I … yeah, that would be really helpful. Thanks, Potter.”</p><p>“No problem! You wanna go now?”</p><p>Before Draco could mention her, Pansy came sauntering up behind Potter, back from the loos, and she lifted a silent brow at him. Draco tried to warn her off ruining anything in equal silence. </p><p>“Where is it you’re going?” she said, making Potter whip around to look at her. Her steely gaze moved to him and she looked him up and down candidly, not bothering to hide her scepticism. </p><p>“He’s helping me fix my bed,” said Draco before Potter could answer. “I’ve been meaning to do it for ages.”</p><p>“I didn’t realise you were here with —”</p><p>“Nonsense,” said Draco, cutting Potter off before he could start backtracking. “Pansy and I were done anyway, weren’t we? I <em> really </em>need my bed fixed.”</p><p>She gave Draco a look of such open exasperation only someone as clueless as Potter wouldn’t have picked up on its meaning. </p><p>“Fine,” she said, waving her hand. “Go <em> have your bed fixed</em>, then, if that’s the euphemism you’re going with.”</p><p>“The what?” said Potter, looking to Draco in confusion. Draco merely glared at Pansy.</p><p>“Nothing,” said Draco. He grabbed a paper napkin and used his wand to write out his address on it. “Here’s my address, Potter. Get whatever tools you need and I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>“<em>Tools</em>?” Pansy said when Potter had left, giving her one last uncertain glance. “What <em> tools </em>does he need, exactly, to fuck you?”</p><p>“He thinks he’s fixing my bed, I told you,” said Draco. He drained the rest of his drink and stood up.</p><p>“So you’re luring him to your flat. Like a predator.”</p><p>“Mind your business,” Draco snapped. “He <em> wants </em>to fuck me, he just hasn’t realised it yet.”</p><p>“Have it your way, then,” Pansy said airily. “Just don’t come crying to <em> me </em>when he proves too dim-witted to trick into a shag.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” said Draco coolly, “I won’t need to.”</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>iii.</p><p>
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</p><p>He showed up with a whole toolbox. Draco briefly entertained the idea of deliberately doing something to his bed frame so as not to look like he’d been lying but decided in the end he didn’t care enough. </p><p>“I don’t see anything wrong,” said Potter when he took him into his bedroom. Just <em> having </em>him in there made Draco’s body buzz with anticipation, and as Potter was crouching down to have a better look at the frame Draco took off his robes and his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Potter looked back at him, and his eyes went immediately to the patch of newly bared skin, cheeks flushing. Draco’s blood roared.</p><p>“That’s because there <em> is </em>nothing wrong with it, Potter,” Draco said. He brought his hands to the second button and Potter’s gaze followed the movement as he undid that one as well.</p><p>“You — what?” he said, sounding slightly dazed. “I thought you said …”</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. “I was only trying to get you here, wasn’t I?”</p><p>Potter didn’t respond to this. He looked utterly flummoxed, watching with wide eyes and parted lips as Draco shrugged out of his shirt entirely. </p><p>“What are you doing, Malfoy?” he asked softly. He still wasn’t looking at Draco’s face: he seemed completely fascinated by Draco’s naked torso, and a glance at his lap told Draco two things. One, that Potter was also turned on, whether or not his brain had registered that fact yet. And two, that he was absolutely right about the size of Potter’s cock.</p><p>“What does it look like I’m doing, Potter?” he said. “Stand up.”</p><p>And though he still appeared not to have caught up to what was going on, he stood. Draco went over to him, pleased when Potter didn’t move away even though Draco could sense him stiffening.</p><p>“You’re hard, you know,” he said. He looked up at Potter and lifted an eyebrow.</p><p>“I’m … what?” He looked down and Draco could actually <em> see </em>the shock register on his face. When he met Draco’s eyes again there was something new there. A nascent understanding that was still forming, like a light being turned on a degree at a time.</p><p>“Have you ever had a bloke suck you off before, Potter?”</p><p>Potter swallowed loudly. Draco put a hand on the waist of his jeans.</p><p>“I … no,” he said hoarsely.</p><p>“Would you like to?”</p><p>“Are you offering?”</p><p>Draco laughed. He couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a joke or not, and it didn’t really matter since it sent Draco into a tailspin of arousal either way. He unzipped Potter’s flies and, meeting no resistance, tugged them down his hips just enough that Draco could get a good look at the tent in his boxers.</p><p>With an air of someone on the verge of learning all the secrets of the universe, Draco lifted the band of Potter’s boxers and uncovered his cock, taking the liberty of using his hand to fully free him from their confines. He was only half-hard, as if, large as it was, it needed more time to completely fill with blood, and still it managed to feel thick and heavy in Draco’s hand. He estimated a good eight inches just like this, and he made a mental note to measure it at some point, fully hard, for his own peace of mind.</p><p>He Conjured lube and started stroking, twisting his wrist and squeezing around the head, watching Potter’s face as he did it and delighting in the wonder he saw there. And <em> god </em> did he have a nice cock, thickening and filling with blood right before Draco’s eyes; the desire to lick away the bead of pre-come at the tip was almost unbearable.</p><p>“Sit down on the bed,” Draco said, dropping his hand away finally.</p><p>Potter blinked at him. “Wha —? Why?”</p><p>“I just said I’m going to suck you off, Potter. Or don’t you want me to?”</p><p>“Yeah, but … but <em> why</em>?”</p><p>“Merlin’s fucking … just <em> sit down </em>, Potter, for Christ’s sake.” He shoved Potter’s chest, unbalancing him so that he fell to his arse on the bed. He watched Draco get to his knees in front of him with a renewed look of awe. “And take off your shirt, will you?”</p><p>Potter opened his mouth, presumably to ask ‘why’ again, but for a miracle he seemed to think better of it and instead obediently pulled his shirt off. Quidditch had done him wonders, all taut muscle and tanned skin, his dark red cock bobbing in the air.</p><p>“Here,” Potter said, grabbing one of Draco’s pillows and tossing it onto the floor. “You should use that for your knees, shouldn’t you?”</p><p>Taken off guard by the thoughtfulness, Draco took it after a moment but tried not to let the gesture get to him. So Potter was dumb <em> and </em>sweet … it hardly mattered. He just wanted a shag.</p><p>And first, to suck Potter’s cock.</p><p>He licked once over the wide head and then took it between his lips, moaning quietly at the velvety soft feeling of hot skin against his tongue and the salty taste of come. He wrapped his fingers around the base and sank further down, letting it stretch his mouth and make his jaw sore. Potter’s hand went to his hair and tangled in it; the feeling made Draco’s veins shiver.</p><p>“Fuck,” he heard Potter whisper, something about the expletive criminally hot coming from him. “You’re really good at that, Malfoy.”</p><p>Draco’s eyes fell shut, preening silently under the praise and taking Potter deeper, until the head prodded at the back of his throat and he had to carefully swallow around it to avoid gagging. Above him Potter groaned and shifted his hips, hands tightening in Draco’s hair, holding him in place whether he realised he was doing it or not. After another moment Draco came back up, stroked his hand through the saliva he’d left on Potter’s throbbing shaft, and then took him down again. </p><p>He could feel Potter’s cock swelling under his ministrations, reaching full hardness as Draco worked him over with mouth and hands, spit and come dripping down his chin and coating his cheeks. The filthy wet sounds made his belly clench, and the sounds Potter made were even better.</p><p>When he felt Potter starting to tense up he pulled off with a small pop, pulling another curse out of him. Without preamble, Draco stood up, undid his trousers, and pulled them and his pants off, drawing Potter’s eyes instantly. </p><p>“You too, Potter,” Draco instructed, grinning at the way Potter’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna fuck me.”</p><p>He looked even more shocked by this revelation than Draco had expected, which turned him on far more than it probably should have. </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“What do I <em> mean</em>?”</p><p>Potter at least had the brains to blush. “No, I mean … you mean …” He saw Potter’s Adam’s apple bob. “I’ve never … with a bloke … I dunno …”</p><p>“I assure you, Potter, it’s not Alchemy,” he said. “Now get your jeans off.”</p><p>He stood up and started taking them off, and while he did that Draco got on the bed, boldly going to all fours and dropping to his elbows. When Potter looked at him, he saw the hunger in his eyes and it made Draco’s toes curl.</p><p>“Malfoy,” Potter said weakly, gaze travelling without shame up and down Draco’s body, always ending up back on his arse. “You’re …”</p><p>“Waiting,” Draco finished for him. “Come on, Potter, I don’t have all night.”</p><p>Potter climbed onto the bed behind him and his hands went to Draco’s arse, seeming to act more on instinct than to actually know what he was doing, which he clearly didn’t.</p><p>“Malfoy,” he said again, “you’re <em> really </em> …”</p><p>“Really <em> what </em>, Potter?”</p><p>He moved his hands reverently along Draco’s thighs, up over his arse and across his lower back before coming to rest on his thighs again.</p><p>“You’re really beautiful,” he said. It should have sounded cheesy and ridiculous but Potter was too painfully sincere, sounded truly awed by the sentiment, and Draco could not stop the sudden rush of emotion he felt. He said nothing, only stared down at his sheets until it passed, and then cleared his throat.</p><p>“Fingers, Potter,” Draco said finally. “D’you know the lubrication charm?”</p><p>“Er — no?”</p><p>Sighing, Draco reached for his wand on the floor and did it himself, coating Potter’s hand.</p><p>“Whoa. Right,” he heard Potter say, shifting forward on his knees. Draco’s stomach swooped. “So I … er …”</p><p>Instead of fingers, he felt the head of Potter’s cock pressing against his hole and Draco let out an involuntary moan.</p><p>“Potter,” he groaned, hands curling in the sheets. “Not — not yet, you have to — your fingers …”</p><p>He paused, the sticky head of his cock still pushing rudely against Draco’s unstretched hole. He could feel his rim flexing against the intrusion, like his body couldn’t be arsed to care whether or not he was ready for it. “My … what?”</p><p>“Your <em> fingers</em>,” Draco said again. “You have to stretch me out.”</p><p>“<em>Stretch </em>you with my fingers?”</p><p>“Yes, you moron!” he shouted, beginning to sweat now at his temples. “I can’t fit your massive prick inside me yet!”</p><p>“Oh,” Potter breathed. Dropping his forehead to the mattress, Draco finally felt Potter pulling his cock away and then felt prodding fingers at his entrance, slicked with lube. “Is ... am I that big? How many d’you think?”</p><p>“Just one first,” said Draco, ignoring the question — <em>am I big</em>. Unbelievable, really. No sooner had he said it than one of Potter’s fingers was circling his rim, like he wanted to explore the way it felt first, before finally sliding it inside. It felt exquisite, the way he sank all the way in, pulled out, and did it again. </p><p>“Has it been awhile?” Potter asked suddenly, still moving his finger. It was an unexpectedly sound leap of logic and it made Draco flush with warmth, glad Potter couldn’t see his face full on.</p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p>“You feel really tight,” said Potter bluntly. Draco squeezed around him involuntarily and a moment later felt a second finger sliding in beside the first. “Is that okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Draco croaked. “That’s really good. Keep doing that.”</p><p>“Okay,” Potter said, shifting a little again and gripping Draco’s arse with his free hand while he redoubled the efforts of the other. He could feel the stretch of his rim around those thick fingers, the way it reluctantly began to loosen with each deep press inside. He started pushing back against it, and when Potter tightened his grip to keep him in place Draco moaned into the crook of his elbow. “Stay still,” he said, stuffing in a third one now, like he was finally finding his footing and becoming comfortable enough to take some control. It wasn’t quite a command, though, as much as an insistent request, because he seemed to feel he had a handle on things. </p><p>Typical Potter, really.</p><p>“Potter,” said Draco, when the orgasm sitting heavy in his belly started building too quickly, “stop, that’s good, I’m gonna come before you even fuck me.”</p><p>Potter stilled and then, slowly, pulled his fingers out. Draco rocked his hips forward, rutting against air.</p><p>“So I can …?” he started, and broke off. His cock rubbed against Draco’s hole again, making him clench and then rock backwards. “You’re sure?”</p><p>“Positive,” Draco assured him.</p><p>And then Potter was pushing inside him, opening him up around his cock, and he hadn’t been wrong when he’d asked whether it had been a while for Draco — three months, if he remembered right. He was rather picky. It hurt despite the stretching and Potter wasn’t necessarily gentle, although Draco thought he was trying to be. He once more reminded Draco of some sort of overeager puppy, too absorbed with the physical sensations to control his more carnal urges. And maybe that was a little painful but it was <em> certainly </em> worth how much that thought turned him on: stupid, imbecilic, <em> noble </em>Potter, forgetting himself and using Draco for his own pleasure.</p><p>His large hands steadied Draco’s hips, still sinking inside even when Draco thought for sure he’d reached maximum capacity. He curled his fingers in the sheets and tried to relax his body, to make room for Potter to keep filling him up, and finally, with a little groan of mingled relief and arousal, he felt Potter’s hips and knew it was over.</p><p>Or … about to begin, rather.</p><p>“What should I do?” Potter asked, breaking Draco’s trembling silence and sounding quite strained himself. Draco buried his face in his arm and marveled at the way he could feel simultaneously exasperated by the question and turned on by it.</p><p>“You fuck me,” he mumbled against his damp skin. “Do you need step-by-step instructions, Potter?”</p><p>“What if I hurt you?”</p><p>“You’re not gonna hurt me!” Draco snapped, at the edge of his patience. His cock was throbbing painfully, leaking pre-come onto his expensive sheets. His thighs shook with the effort of keeping still. “Fuck me already, you great bloody oaf!”</p><p>Reinforcing his grip on Draco’s hips, he pulled out suddenly and shoved back in, knocking Draco’s breath from his lungs and jerking him forwards hard enough that he instinctively threw an arm out to catch himself on the headboard. His mouth fell open as pleasure — sharp and sudden — rippled through his veins and ignited nerve-endings. He did it again, and Draco barely had time to brace himself before Potter was starting up a brutal rhythm that once again seemed to edge more on the side of something carnal, animal-like in its disregard for decorum once he'd gotten started. He paid attention to the drag of Potter’s cock against his inner walls, the way it felt to squeeze around something hot and hard and impossibly thick that kept him ruthlessly stretched open.</p><p>Potter took and took and took, pounding into Draco and chasing his own orgasm. When he shifted his angle and started nudging up against Draco’s prostate, he cried out weakly, “Right there! Right there, right there, don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop …”</p><p>Potter didn’t stop. He focused on that spot inside of Draco, pummelling his prostate with sharp thrusts that made lights pop in front of his eyes, still taking greedily, indulging himself in Draco’s body with a brutish lack of shame. The bed frame (which <em> was </em> antique and <em> had </em>been in the family for generations) trembled and squeaked and battered the wall. </p><p>Above and behind him, Potter grunted and — impossible though it seemed — picked up his speed yet again, taking Draco by the legs and hauling him closer. Draco heard the frame make an ominous noise and, just before the whole thing shook violently and then went crashing to the floor, he had a moment to appreciate the irony.</p><p>                                              </p><p>There was not even a pause in the fucking. Draco let out something between a laugh and a tortured moan when Potter simply gripped his legs tighter and kept going, grunting now with the effort and his impending orgasm. Bracing himself so Potter wouldn’t slam him into the crooked headboard, Draco was unable to get a hand between his legs to touch himself, but it didn’t matter: he came with a shout seconds later, eyes squeezed shut against the intensity of it that swallowed him whole. He was gasping for breath when he felt Potter start coming and moaned brokenly as it filled him up and started leaking out down his thighs.</p><p>Potter fucked him through it and eventually began slowing, until, panting, he came to a stop. He didn’t pull out, and after a minute, when Draco had caught his breath, he moved forward and did it himself.</p><p>“Well,” said Draco unsteadily, sitting up on his knees and shifting to face Potter while his come leaked out of his arse, “that’s —”</p><p>But Potter pulled him forward by the arm and kissed him, messy and sweet and surprisingly competent. Draco allowed it only a few seconds before breaking it, his cheeks warm and his heart somewhere in his throat.</p><p>“That was amazing,” said Potter dopily. Draco rolled his eyes, but not without a slight grin. He grabbed his wand and cleaned them off then carefully stepped from the broken bed, knees a bit shaky. Potter looked around then, and some of his lustful haze seemed to fade. “Malfoy — I’m so sorry about the bed, I don’t know <em> how — </em>”</p><p>“You fuck like an animal, that’s how,” said Draco easily.</p><p>“Well … at least I brought my toolbox! I can definitely fix it for you.”</p><p>“That would be lovely, Potter,” said Draco. “I was serious about it being an antique, though, please be careful.” The orgasm was making him feel much more relaxed than usual and he couldn’t find the energy to berate poor Potter, who had turned out to be something of a sex god. He held out a hand and helped him off the bed, trying (and failing) to avoid blushing when Potter kissed him again, this time more of a peck, before going for his abandoned toolbox completely starkers.</p><p>“Potter,” Draco started, “you can …” But he decided against letting Potter know he could dress himself before he started fixing the bed, because what was the point, really? He much preferred it this way.</p><p>“Huh?” said Potter, looking over his shoulder at Draco with wide green eyes, some sort of Muggle contraption in his hand now. There was still sweat glistening on his skin. </p><p>“Never mind,” Draco said, grinning again. “D’you want something to drink?”</p><p>"Yeah, that'd be great."</p><p>"Tea?" Draco offered. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice? Water?"</p><p>"Pumpkin juice would be great," he said.</p><p>Draco smiled at his back when he turned to the bed frame again, then grabbed his silk robe and headed off to the kitchen to get the pumpkin juice. It felt strangely domestic, and he didn't really mind it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find us at <a href="https://lazywonderlvnd.tumblr.com/">lazywonderlvnd.tumblr.com</a> and <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/safe-mode?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffae-vorite.tumblr.com%2F">fae-vorite.tumblr.com</a> ♡</p></blockquote></div></div>
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